Mistake with Mimosas
by missmamamoo
Summary: Nathalie Sancoeur and Gabriel Agreste do not always work like a well-oiled machine. She feels under-appreciated and overworked. Her coping habits are one of two: good food or good alcohol. One of the two allow her some liberties that are best not repeated.


**A big thanks to** **gabrielfuckingagreste for betaing this for me. I love you 3 You are the bomb! I totally appreciate any form of constructive criticism, so feel free to let me know if there are any other mistakes. This may turn into a multi-chapter fic mainly because I was struck with another idea today. Enjoy and thanks for reading~**

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Days just like today would require some mind blowing food. Nathalie sat at her desk and picked at her salad. Everyone had gone out to eat but Gabriel was in one of those moods. He had been calling her nonstop throughout the morning. Today he was quite needy. She was just hoping it wouldn't interfere with her evening plans.

Occasionally, Gabriel would ask scheduling to give her an evening off as a treat towards her hard work. He apparently told scheduling he was worried how overworking might affect her performance. It might have helped that she had gotten more and more prickly with the accumulation of overtime. She was an administrative assistant, not his babysitter. At first, she didn't even know what to do with her evenings. Now she looked forward to them. She would spend them on her balcony with a large cup of wine and her new cat. Recently her mother started bribing her into going to blind dates and Nathalie wasn't going to pass by an opportunity for good food.

"Nathalie!" he called out.

Sighing, she marched into his office.

"Yes, Monsieur Agreste."

"Can you please call textiles and inform them that I will go meet with them about that horrendous fabric they sent me. I just read that we ordered 500 yards of this when this is not what I wanted."

This could have been done via phone call. She could have still been eating her lunch. Nathalie took in a deep breath. "Sir, the fabric you wanted was on backorder. You agreed on making some changes for everything to be right on schedule. I quote 'I would prefer for this to be out on time than competing with another company for the same fabric.' You insisted we should be original."

"Yes, but now I am seeing a clash within the collection."

"I understand, sir. I will go call textiles immediately." was going to have a cow.

"Nathalie," he called out as she left.

"Yes, sir," she said sternly.

"Can you please find me the portfolio I did 15 years ago? It should be on the third shelf of the second bookcase in the office's hidden storage. If my memory isn't failing me, I know I put an unfinished piece there that I might use for the upcoming collection."

She wanted to kill him. This was so unnecessary. Every time he made her dig out old portfolios he would laugh at them. Nothing was ever pulled from them. They were just some sick form of entertainment where he would mock his own creations.

"Of course, sir," she said plainly.

She walked out of the office and phoned textiles. They lost their minds.

"What is wrong with him today?" Francis Brieux groaned.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Brieux, but he is insisting on the previous fabric."

"That's not what we agreed on," he screeched.

"I already informed him on that but he is insisting there is a clash," she said calmly.

"A clash?" he echoed.

"Yes, sir."

Nathalie pulled the phone away from her ear as the Frenchman spewed colorful words of where Agreste could shove his "clash".

"You tell that man that I will meet with him! If he wants the fabric to come in late that is on him!" he yelled.

"Yes, sir."

She dialed Gabriel's extension. He did not answer. She rolled her eyes and went to his office.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Nathalie."

"Textiles said they are ready to meet."

"And my portfolio?"

"I will go fetch it now."

"Thank you, Nathalie."

"Oh and Nathalie?"

She fought the urge to scream.

"I hope you have finished your duties of the day because I will need you for the remainder of the day."

No. Just no. She was putting up with his tantrum because of her evening plans. She was going to have that chicken. She was going to eat to her heart's content and gross out a grown man with her appetite. She was looking forward to this meal.

"Sir, today is my evening off."

"Is it? Nathalie, I need you," he pleaded.

God, since when had this man become so needy. "Sir," she said with a tight smile. "I have already made plans for this evening and you already have me working overtime. HR will not be pleased. I am sure the new intern, Julia, would love to help out."

"I haven't seen her all day!" he exclaimed.

"You asked her to excuse herself this morning because of her perfume," she said absently moving his schedule around on her tablet.

He had asked her to go air herself out because she smelled like the inside of a piñata. Nathalie had to calm the poor girl down in the break room.

"Must you take off this evening?" he asked frowning. She wasn't going to hear the end of it. She knew it but she deserved an evening off. She had been scheduling meetings nonstop only for him to have a tantrum today and not go to any of them, which was a scheduling nightmare. This did not even involve the extra time she spent babysitting Adrien. At least Adrien had manners. She met his angry gaze and said the words she did not want to say

"Yes, sir."

Gabriel took in a deep breath and took off his glasses.

"Good. Go get me my portfolio. I expect it on my desk by the time I get back from my meeting in textiles. I take it you are finished your duties for the day?" he demanded.

Damn. She was barely finished. She had a few more phone calls to make.

"I have a couple more meetings to reschedule."

"Perfect. I will see you when I get back," his smiled tightly, leaving Nathalie uneasy. Apparently, today was the calm before the storm.

There was once a time where she questioned why she did everything for this man. She was his secretary, babysitter, personal assistant, and confidant. Her mother loathed Agreste, claiming that the man would never find a wife because he paid her daughter enough to just agree with everything he said. Comments like that made her question the nature of their relationship. She felt married without the romance or the sex. Perhaps her mother was right.

Nathalie sighed and opened up the hidden storage room in his office. She passed up old displays and stood in front of an enormous bookcase. She felt the bookcase creak at her weight and the ladder. She quickly picked through the organized portfolios and found her target. Once at ground level, she heard the bookcase groan and cave in on her. She was pelted with leather portfolios and papers flew in every direction. Dust blocked her airway and blurred her vision. She could feel a burn in her throat and it took some time for her vision to adjust to the darkness. She desperately climbed over the forgotten artwork and tried to find the door. The dim light provided by a porthole near the ceiling, let her see the outline of the door. She clawed at it and could not find a latch or a knob. She began to bang on the door.

"Hello? Is anybody out – " She broke in coughing fits. She felt her throat burn with each inhale.

She tried to push the bookcase aside only to realize it was too heavy to move. She heard it clunk on the bookcase next to it . It would fall over if she kept trying, and Nathalie would most certainly die. She was stuck. She patted her suit down only to remember her phone was next to her partially eaten salad. She eyed the displays, wondering if she should attempt to take the door down.

No. Gabriel will come back, he had to look through his old portfolio. He would end her if she made a hole in his office.

She calmed herself and sat down in front of the door. She had to wait for him. The light from the small window barely showed any depth to narrow storage. She kept hearing something rustling among the papers and did her best to ignore them. Hours seem to pass as the light began to fade. She still had not heard Gabriel come back from his meeting. She banged the door once more crying out for help. She slumped down, back towards the door. Someone had to come into his office. Someone had to have notice she was gone.

She woke up to darkness. She shrieked realizing the sun had gone down. She stood up and banged on the door.

"Agreste?!" She yelled. "Please tell me you are out there! Somebody, please help me!" She beat her fists to the door trying to ignore the pain in her hand of her skin splitting open.

"Please, is anybody out there?"

She was met by silence once more. "Gabriel, please! Anybody!? Please I have been in here since 1:30 this afternoon if anyone can hear me please help."

She felt desperation rising up. She kicked at the door viciously.

"Hello!" she yelled out. "Security!"

She turned around and reached out to find something that could help her take down the door. "I know you love these old displays Monsieur Agreste but I believe I will have no choice but to make a hole in your office wall. I do apologize," she said to no one. She attempted to pick up a stand. Realizing how heavy it was, she kicked it in frustration. A loud crash rang throughout the room. She ran in fear of being crushed only to slam straight into the door.

"Fuck!" she yelled.

"Nathalie?" she heard a man wheeze. Oh, God. No. This is not happening. That was definitely the sound of Gabriel Agreste's voice. Stay calm. "Nathalie, are you okay?"

"Um, well no actually." She cleared her throat. "I'm trapped." She felt humiliated At least he couldn't see the blush on her face.

She heard him attempt to open the door. "The door won't budge."

"Yes, the bookcase is blocking it."

"There must be quite the mess in there."

Of course, he is far more worried about his artwork that the living breathing human person who has been trapped in his archaic storage room. "Yes, I suppose I will have to clean it once daylight hits," she said in a scathing tone. Dignity be damned.

"Nathalie, it's four in the morning."

"Well, then, I guess I will get to work in about an hour and a half. If you could just find a way to slide me a broom I might be able to start cleaning."

"Nathalie," he warned. That pushed her off the edge.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have been in here since you left to go to that meeting with textiles. I haven't eaten. I feel dirty and I'm currently trying to ignore whatever is moving around in my shoe. Excuse me if I am not in the best of moods."

"Have you tried moving the bookcase?" he implored.

"It's stuck in the other bookcase on the wall," she reported.

"So you are unharmed," he inquired.

"Apart from mild allergies to the dust, some cuts on my hand from beating the door and no food or water for over twelve hours; I'm peachy."

"Stand as far away as you can manage from the door." She heard him leave the office and she got to work. She stuck her hands out blindly trying to find her way through the room. She tripped and felt her glasses fly off. She got up and continued to get away from the door. She felt the corridor narrow before leading into a room with a large window.

She looked out into the room squinting. She could make out a group of what seemed to be sleeping doves. In the moonlight, they seemed to glow. She walked closer and some flew away. The wings didn't sound like doves.

"Nathalie?!" She heard from behind her.

"We have a dove problem. I will call animal control in the morning."

"I can – excuse me?"

Turned to her boss and pointed to the sea of white, Nathalie replied,"We have a dove problem. I don't even have my glasses on and I can tell."

She heard Gabriel exhale. "Nathalie, where are your glasses?"

"They fell off in the hallway."

She could almost hear his smile, "Those are actually moths." She curled away in disgust.

"I'll call the exterminator tomorrow morning." He took her by the elbow and guided her to their exit. She helped her climb over the the artwork hearing him click his tongue at the mess. The office light burned her eyes. She covered her face with her free hand and felt something touching her head. She jumped up to find Gabriel close enough to make out his facial features. He was scowling. Gabriel took a good look at her. Her hair was wild and chunks of it were grayed with dust. Her eyes were vibrant blue, no longer hiding behind her glasses. He pulled out a first aid kit and began working on her hands.

"You're covered in dust. Let me take you to the company hotel to get you fixed up. It's the one I always go to when I spend the night in the office. I will pay for the food and the clothing. You will get full compensation for yesterday and today."

She looked at the coat rack on the ground. He must have used it as a battering ram. She squinted to look around.

"I need glasses."

"I will order them once we get you settled in a room."

"How do you plan on taking me Gorilla isn't on duty? How will you order my glasses?"

He looked up from his work. "I can drive, Nathalie. And all I have to do is come back and get the glasses that are probably still in there," he pointed out. "If those aren't any good I can manage to get you new ones." He began unbuttoning her suit jacket. She caught his hands.

"I'm just trying to make you presentable, Nathalie." He cleared his throat. "I will not take any liberties; I'm just trying to clean you up before we go to the hotel."

She felt silly, he had undressed and dressed supermodels but here she was getting shy. She shrugged off the jacket. She noticed Agreste took off his ascot and wet it with a pitcher of water. He began wiping her face. She did her best to remain angry and not get distracted.

"Close your eyes."

She did as she was told and suddenly everything Gabriel did was in slow motion. He became focused on every detail delicately brushing her lashes. She could feel his body heat seeping into her personal bubble. Her lips parted.

"Why don't you rub it?"

" I'm sure your eyeballs would appreciate me not rubbing dust into them," he breathed on her cheek. Their nearness left something to be desired. Something she had been beating herself up for thinking. His fresh cologne overpowered her senses. She felt the heat leave her.

"We're done here, Mademoiselle Sancoeur. Gather your things and we will leave to the hotel."

The car ride was filled with deafening silence. Neither of them spoke. They could have probably walked to the hotel. Due it being in Paris the hotel only had one room available. As much as she wanted to throw Gabriel Agreste out of the window, she knew he would not stay for long. He just wanted to shower. It was in his routine to come to this hotel when staying in his office overnight to shower and take power naps.

"It's fine," said Nathalie.

"I can go to another place," he insisted.

"I'm tired, Gabriel. If you want to travel halfway across town to shower, that's up to you, but I have no issues with letting you shower. As long as I get to shower first."

"I apologize for inconveniencing you once more but it's almost six – "

"I know, just let me shower first."

"Thank you, Nathalie."

In the room, he claimed the phone. "I will see if I can find food or clothes."

"Yes, sir."

Nathalie came into the room to a sleeping Gabriel. She was still tired. It was probably from her trauma. She took the other side of the bed lying face first on the hotel's soft pillows. She heard her boss's soft snores. She looked up to wake him but his peaceful face stopped her. Instead, She reached an arm out and took plucked off his glasses. He turned to face her and she held her breath. He was sleeping so peacefully.

She was faced with a discovery she had made some time ago: Gabriel Agreste was handsome. The man's skin was flawless. He had a full head of hair at his age and his blue eyes could make any woman swoon. He was skinny but she knew he was a runner. Everything was lean muscle. His shoulders were not broad enough to boast but broad enough to tuck your head into. She bit her lip. She readjusted the robe praying that she didn't expose herself and let sleep wash over her.

He woke up to Nathalie's exposed skin. His shock knocked most of the sleep out of him. She was in a disheveled robe. Her shoulder was exposed, some artwork on her back was visible. Leftovers from her teenage rebellion. Her wet hair brushed his forehead, going every which way. She had been sleeping next to him, and apparently was a rough sleeper. His treacherous eyes took a bit too long to look away. He knew those images would be saved to pop up at the most inopportune times. He then took the part of the comforter he was laying on and covered her. Gabriel grabbed the phone and dialed room service again. He should at least make sure she was fed and cloth before leaving the hotel. Once placing his order in, sleep drove him down harder. He would wake once room service knocked. Then he would leave. Surely, Nathalie will be too tired to wake, given the previous night's ordeal.

He woke up to Nathalie nudging him. Fully clothes and eating breakfast. She asked him a question but he did not hear. He simply nodded and beelined to the shower. Out the shower, he came and he noticed she was still picking at her plate.

"I saved you coffee."

He ran his fingers through his wet hair. "Did you spit in it?"

"I thought about it," she joked. Knowing him he probably called HR already. Might as well enjoy the casualness of his tone.

"Did you?" he smiled. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe she could still keep her job.

"You aren't the easiest man to deal with." She was pushing it but after yesterday's experience, she couldn't care less. She dealt with akumas weekly because of this man. Getting trapped and nearly killed by his bookcase was a new addition to why she hated working with Gabriel Agreste.

"I know. I apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was inexcusable." That shocked Nathalie. Gabriel Agreste isn't one to apologize so easily. Her brows furrowed.

"How much did you see?"

"Excuse me," he felt himself turn pink.

"You covered me up with the comforter this morning. How much did you see?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just didn't want to risk it either. Robes are very flimsy. You act as if my job does not revolve around dressing and undressing others."

Nathalie ignored the man and continued to pick at her plate. He watched Nathalie pluck a strawberry off her pancake. Her lips closed around it and her eyes partially clothed in delight. He coughed feeling the heat rise even more. He needed something stronger than coffee. That woman just made a three-star breakfast pancake meal look delectable. He sipped the orange juice realizing it was actually a mimosa. He didn't remember ordering that. He finished his glass cursing the images dancing around in his head. He heard her clear her throat as she spoke, "Do I still have a job?"

Gabriel wiped his mouth and looked up to Nathalie. "You are my assistant. Like you said, we have worked together for nearly a decade, it's about time we developed a better system for communication." He readjusted his robe and caught her eyes wandering. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction he hadn't felt in years. He cleared his throat and watched a blush stain her cheeks. It could have just been the mimosa. He poured himself a third glass. "Nathalie, you are very important to me. I'm not sure you realize that. I am demanding because I trust you enough to see that side of me."

"Sir, you are like that with everyone."

"Yes, but not everyone has the same benefits as you," he said raising his arms up to show off the room.

"That's because I slept with you," the treacherous words left her mouth before her brain processed them. That was taking the joke too far. She blamed the mimosa. She was one her fourth glass. She had specially ordered it because she assumed she was being fired

Gabriel laughed. "My wife always did suspect us. Honestly, if that's the case let me make it up to you because I would have to be the worst lover on earth. I gave you hell all yesterday and now you are fearing that you lost your job."

"I was out of line."

"Yes, but I prefer that from you. If you need anything at all, let me know."

"I'll let you know if I do. Thank you, sir."

"You can call me, Gabriel. We're alone and you crossed that line sometime yesterday."

He drank the last of his glass and stood up. "Well, I had enough for breakfast and I am sure I will get murdered by the intern for being so late. I will see you later, Nathalie."

She ran behind him as he walked to the door and then grabbed his arm. "Sir, you aren't wearing any clothes."

"You should join the party," whispered taking her mouth in his. Mimosas are never a good way to start the day. You find excuses to never get out of bed.


End file.
